


Are There Four People Here, or is it Just Me?

by ShinyLyni



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Bodyswap, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, human!AU, the extra content warnings will be at the top of the chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyLyni/pseuds/ShinyLyni
Summary: Logan was comfortable with his life as an astronomy graduate student and TA. Patton had settled into his life as a veterinarian technician fairly well, and got to see his brother and nephew every weekend. Roman was an aspiring young actor who, after taking a few years off, was now back in college to finish his acting degree. And Virgil was an audio engineering graduate struggling to find work in his field. However, one day, the four of them find themselves in a life that is very different from the one they've known, and as time goes on, continue to switch, seemingly at random. Will they ever go back to their normal lives? How will they stop switching? And, most of all, will they be able to prevent themselves from accidentally ruining each others' lives?---Basically, this is a body-swapping human AU with a twist in that they're all alternate universe versions of each other.





	1. With Sudden Change, the Mind Tends to be Confused

When he opened his eyes, the first thing Logan processed was that he could see.

Sure, he was never actually blind, but his years of reading books under the flickering light of his old lamp back when he was a teenager did do quite a number on his eyesight, enough so that he needed corrective lenses to be able to properly see anything more than a foot and a half in front of him. In his half-awake state, Logan brought his hand up to his face to see if he’d accidentally fallen asleep with his glasses on, only to painfully poke himself in the eye.

Struggling to sit up, his second thought was that his blankets felt oddly heavy on him.

His third thought was that he was not in his own apartment.

Wide awake at this point, Logan jumped out of bed and looked around him. The room looked like his apartment; rather, it looked like it had been constructed the same way as his. He saw two doors, one open to reveal various outfits which were very decidedly not his, and the other closed. On the opposite wall of the closed door was a window, which overlooked the neighboring building of the complex, just like the window of his own apartment. The walls were painted a plain white color, and the floor was covered by a similarly plain white carpet.

However, that was where the similarities ended. The walls were covered with various brightly-colored posters; Logan didn’t recognize most of them, though a quick glance told him they must’ve been mostly posters of various broadway shows and musicals. There was a desk pushed up against the wall with the window. Well, not a desk, more like one of those plastic tables that people could fold up and put away. Various textbooks littered the desk, along with loose-leaf notebook papers, pens and pencils, and eraser shavings. On the other side of the desk sat a silver laptop and, oddly enough, a small white sewing machine. There was a laundry basket half-full of clothes. Next to the bed was a small nightstand, where a smartphone laid, its screen dark. The bed itself had some sort of oddly regalic vibe to it, with golden embroidery on the excessively fluffy blankets and ridiculously poofy pillows.

Yeah, he was definitely not in his own room, and had no clue where he was.

Logan turned toward the phone and picked it up, pressing the lock button on the side to wake it up. The screen showed a picture from some Disney movie that someone had likely drew and posted online (he hadn’t really been up to date with the latest animated movies that’d come out, but the style was very definitely Disney-esque), and in large font at the top, he saw the time. 6:24 AM. He swiped upwards, and the screen changed to blur the background while the text “Enter PIN” appeared, with a number pad underneath. Well, he definitely wouldn’t be able to guess the passcode to some stranger’s phone. Turning the phone around, Logan saw the small rectangular indent in the back, very much like his own phone. He ran his right index finger over it, not even conscious of his actions, and then turned the phone back over. He started looking through the app drawer when he suddenly realized something:

He’d unlocked a stranger’s phone. With his own fingerprint.

While the probability of two people sharing the same fingerprints was astronomically small (about one out of sixty-four billion, if he recalled that correctly), it still didn’t rule out that technically, it was entirely possible that perhaps the finger he’d used shared the same kind of print as someone else. Locking the screen again, Logan tried with his left index finger, and… surprisingly, got the same result. Logan frowned. No, must be some sort of mistake, though as he swiped yet another finger over the sensor and saw screen light up again, he pondered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t a stranger’s phone. Maybe someone was pulling a prank on him, and this was actually his phone, just with a different lock screen and home screen and apps. But that still didn’t explain why he’d woken up in someone else’s bed.

Sighing, Logan looked once more around the room, before his eyes landed on the closed door. Staying in here likely wouldn’t yield him any more answers, he thought to himself as he turned the knob, opening the door slowly, almost apprehensively. He walked outside and glanced around, noting how, once again, it appeared that the apartment itself had exactly the same floor plan as the one he lived in. Which made sense; he deduced that he was likely in the same complex as his own, just likely in another building and thus, another room. It would explain why the view from the window looked so similar to the one he’d seen pretty much every morning for almost two years now. He made his way into the living room, and stopped cold when he realized he wasn’t alone.

There, snoring on the couch (well, futon couch, which had been flattened out to become a bed), was a stranger he’d never seen. Logan felt panic settling in as he stared at the other man, trying to assess the situation. The man didn’t seem to be an intruder, as he had blankets over himself and a pillow nestled messily under his head. He had black hair and a young-looking face, possibly a couple years younger than himself. Logan’s mind began reeling as he went through the facts in his head. Stranger’s apartment. Stranger sleeping soundly in front of him. A sudden thought flashed in his mind, and Logan found himself walking as quickly and quietly as he could towards the front door. He tested the locks and the doorknob itself, and sighed with relief when he successfully opened the door. The other man, however, had began stirring from all the noise, and Logan froze as he stared, wide-eyed, as the stranger lifted his head and looked at Logan with half-lidded eyes.

“Roman, why’re you up so early?” the man said, a slight whine in his voice.  “It’s the weekend, go back to bed.”

Logan blinked, confused. “There must be some mistake, I’m not Roman-”

The other man scoffed at that. “Dude, if this is another one of your weird method acting tricks again, I’m not playing along this time. Go to bed, or if you really want to be up at this ungodly hour, at least be a little more quiet about it.” And with an annoyed huff, the man lowered himself back into the couch.

Logan sighed and closed the front door, making sure to lock it before moving back towards the room he’d woken up in. So he hadn’t been kidnapped, since it appeared he could leave the apartment at any time. His slightly odd conversation with the other inhabitant of the room seemed to indicate the other man didn’t consider him a prisoner of any sort, though perhaps that was due to the confusion that came with waking up. Logan sat on the bed and unlocked the phone in his hands again, turning on the GPS location services and opening Google Maps to try to determine where he was. After a bit of buffering, the screen finally loaded, and he saw that he was…. in his own apartment building?

What, no, that can’t be correct. It had to be the walls, that must be it. The walls were throwing the GPS signal off, and that’s why it couldn’t get an accurate read on where he was. Well, if location services weren’t going to help him, perhaps texting someone would help. He opened up his messaging app, and started scrolling through his contacts until he realized-

None of the contacts were familiar.

Sure, maybe Logan recognized a name here or there, but the names were common enough that it could be coincidence. The numbers next to the contacts labeled “Daddy-o” and “Mothership” (names he would never use for his own parental units), however, did not match the numbers he’d stored in his own memory banks regarding his parents. So perhaps this… wasn’t his phone? But he could unlock it with his fingerprints just fine! Logan groaned in frustration. None of this made any sense! Why was he in a stranger’s apartment? Why was the guy outside calling him “Roman”? How did he get this phone? Maybe this was all a really strange dream. That had to be it. The soup he’d eaten last night had tasted a little off, so perhaps this was all the result of that. A food-poisoning induced bout of lucid dreaming. Yes, the only logical explanation to his current situation. Now he’d just have to wait for his alarm to go off, and then he’d wake up in his own room, on his own bed, with no random stranger sleeping in the living room calling him a name that was not his.

Well, there was no use staying awake in this dream, then, he mused to himself as he crawled back under the covers. He closed his eyes, and allowed himself to feel the embrace of sleep taking over him once again-

-only to be woken up by the sound of a very unfamiliar ringtone by his ear.

Groaning, Logan picked up the phone and glared at the screen, which showed the time of… eleven in the morning? No, that couldn’t be right! He never woke up that late, even on weekends! Sitting upright, he turned off the alarm, only to be greeted once again by the Disney-esque lock screen of the phone from his…. dream? Logan looked around the room. No, he was not back in his apartment. Yes, this was the apartment he’d woken up in, in what he had assumed to be a dream. But how? He’d never been one for lucid dreaming before, so he wasn’t sure if this was normal, but the more he walked around the room the more, dare he say it, “real” it felt.

Logan jumped as he heard a knock on the door. “Hey man, you decent?” called a voice, sounding just like the man he’d met out in the living room earlier.

Quickly glancing over himself and noting  the lone pair of boxers he had on, he replied, “N-no?”

“Alright, just letting you know I’m gonna be using the shower, so don’t go barging in to do your makeup.”

“But I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet!” he found himself saying, and frowned. This was  _ not _ the time for him to be worrying over trivial things like that.

He heard a laugh from the other side. “You snooze, you lose, man. Guess you’ll be brushing in the shower again, then!” The sound of retreating footsteps let Logan know the other man had started walking away, and he flopped onto bed even more confused than he had been earlier.

With nothing else better to do, Logan began to list what he knew to himself:

  1. He woke up in a room that was not his own.
  2. He found a phone physically similar to the one he owned, and had been able to unlock it with his own fingerprints.
  3. The phone had different apps, contacts, and home and lock screens from the one he owned.
  4. There was a man sleeping in the living room.
  5. The man had called him “Roman”.
  6. There were no physical obstacles preventing him from leaving the apartment at any time.
  7. There’s now somebody in the restroom, presumably about to take a shower. Presumably that somebody was the man he’d met in the living room earlier.



With that knowledge, that narrowed the possibilities of what had happened to him to the following:

  1. ~~He’d been kidnapped~~ Unlikely at this point, given point number 6.
  2. Someone was pulling an elaborate prank on him.
  3. He’s still asleep, and is lucidly dreaming all this.
  4. He’d been drugged and was currently going through some sort of high-induced hallucinations.



He shook his head. 2 was unlikely given how expensive and time-consuming this particular “prank” would’ve been to pull off. He’d clearly gone to bed at 10pm the night before, and, being the light sleeper that he was, would’ve immediately noticed if someone had been shuffling things around in his room. Especially the bed. It would’ve been impossible to switch the bed sheets without waking him up at some point. And option 2 didn’t explain why he suddenly didn’t need glasses anymore.

Option 3 was quickly looking less and less likely; if this was a dream, he would’ve definitely already woken up by now. He pinched himself in the arm a few times, just to make sure. Nope, still in the unfamiliar room. Probably not a dream.

Which left…. Option 4. But again, he could have only been drugged while he was asleep, and he would have woken up for sure if he’d felt anyone trying to jab a needle into his arm or force stuff down his throat. Perhaps they might have messed with his memory as well?

“Hey man, I’m done with the shower, if you wanna use it. Hot water might be gone, though,” said the voice from earlier, breaking Logan out of his thoughts. He sighed. Might as well play along until he figured out what the hell was going on.

“Yes, um, I’ll be using it, uh, momentarily. Thank you for informing me,” he called back, making his way towards the closet as he did so.

“Dude, your formal speech is killing me over here. What kind of role are they making you play this time?”

Role? What? “Um, I’m a teacher,” he said as he opened the closet. Ah, role. That makes more sense now, Logan mused as he looked at the assortment of clothes in front of him. Well, more like costumes, given how elaborately and, frankly, cheaply designed most of them were. He rummaged through and managed to find a plain black v-neck, some khakis trousers, and a random pair of boxers before making his way towards the restroom.

Setting his clothes down on the empty space by the sink, Logan looked around and saw two cups, one with an already-used toothbrush which he assumed belonged to the other man, and one that had a cartoon deer and rabbit printed on it, an unused toothbrush sitting inside. He considered not brushing his teeth; after all, it would be very unhygienic to use someone else’s toiletries. But then, he looked into the mirror, and the sight somehow managed to freeze him in shock.

The image reflected on the surface was… very similar to how he usually appeared. In fact, had he not known better, Logan would’ve thought he was looking at his twin, though he knew that definitely wasn’t the case. His shoulders were slightly broader and his overall musculature seemed more toned. His skin was slightly tanned, though not enough for tanlines to be easily visible. His hair was also longer, and even appeared to be lighter in color (though upon closer inspection, it had merely been dyed, given the darker roots he could see peaking out). However, everything else looked visually identical, from the shape of his face to the color of his eyes, down to the matching birthmark on his lower back. It was almost as if he were seeing a version of himself had he decided to pursue a more active career path, or simply decided to work out more often. Overall, it was a pleasing, if a little bit odd, sight, but only gave him even more questions that he didn’t know the answer to.

Shaking his head, Logan took off his boxers and stepped into the shower. He let tepid water wash over him, which unfortunately was not refreshing enough to clear his mind of, well, anything. He robotically went through the motions as he let his mind wander, going through his situation and the facts once again, only to come up with the same non-conclusion from earlier.

Once he was finished showering and had changed into the clean set of clothes, Logan walked out into the living room and spied the other man in the kitchen, who had apparently put on some black eyeliner and eyeshadow, giving him a rather… panda-esque look.

“Finally, took you long enough, man!” the other man said as he put down his phone. “Thought you were gonna drown yourself in there.”

“Apologies, I was deep in thought and did not consider the time,” Logan replied as he glanced around the kitchen. Again, it was structurally the same as his own, though the decor was different, and there seemed to be a stack of two-day-old dishes in the sink.

The man snorted. “Seriously, dude, if you don’t lay off speaking like a professor, I swear I’m gonna throttle you.” Shaking his head, he continued, “I took the last bagel, I think there’s still some pancakes in the freezer if you wanna warm those up.”

“Thank you, that’s… awfully helpful of you.” Logan made his way towards the fridge and considered scrambling some eggs, before deciding that would be too much of a hassle without a clean pan and settled on the pancakes his acquaintance had suggested. As he waited for the microwave to heat up his breakfast, Logan took out the phone in his pocket and, after a bit of hesitation, opened up the Facebook app.

The first thing he noticed was the profile picture. It looked like a picture of him and the other man in the room taking a quick selfie, which was preposterous. He’d only just met this man, and besides, he never took selfies. He tapped on the image, bringing him to the profile page. Roman Sanders… well, that explained why the other man kept calling him Roman, and if he and this “Roman” shared the same last name, they might be related and thus, would look similarly and possibly easily mistaken. The tags showed that the other man’s name was Elliot, which Logan committed to his memory as quickly as he could. On a whim, he tapped on the search bar and entered “Logan Sanders”, and waited for the app to finish buffering before he began scrolling through the list of people.

“Uh, dude, it’s been three minutes. Are you gonna get that?” Logan looked up and saw Elliot giving him a curious expression, eyebrow raised.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Yes, thank you for letting me know.” He numbly opened the microwave and took out his stack of pancakes, before absentmindedly walking towards his room.

“Hey, Roman? Roman!” Logan stopped and turned around. “Dude, are you feeling alright? You’ve been really weird all morning, and I’m not falling for that ‘method acting’ bullshit this time.”

“I’m… I’m not sure I’m feeling well, Elliot,” he said. “Perhaps I might’ve caught a bit of a cold?”

Elliot snorted. “Mr. Perfect Health finally getting sick for the first time in three years? I find that hard to believe.” Shaking his head, he continued, “But if you’re really not feeling well, go rest then, dude. And don’t get anywhere near me, you know once I’m down I’m bedridden for like, half a month.” Logan nodded and walked back into the bedroom, setting his plate on the nightstand before unceremoniously flopping onto the bed. His mind whirled, but absolutely nothing made sense anymore. He checked a few more websites, including his LinkedIn, emails, and even any old social media or forum accounts he might’ve made when he was younger. Every time, he would fail to log in.

It was as if Logan Sanders had never existed in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, I'm kinda just jumping into this fic because I had a sudden epiphany for a concept I really want to try, and honestly, Sanders Sides is just such a good outlet for me to use for this idea. Also, I just really like Thomas Sanders' stuff.


	2. Häagen-Dazs Dispersion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Descriptions of panic attacks (they don't last long, but enough that I felt the need to put it here), explicit language (not much but it's there)

Virgil groaned as he woke up from bed, rubbing the back of his head as it throbbed painfully for whatever reason. He’d had a really weird dream last night. He’d been with some guy who claimed to be his older brother, and had a nephew? And the two had taken him to a dog park for some reason? And then his “brother” had bought him some ice cream and taken him out to dinner? But the strangest thing was that they’d kept calling him “Patton” and not his actual name. It had been a very surreal experience, but thankfully it was over now.

Not wanting to get out of bed, Virgil reached over to grab his phone and swiped his thumb over the groove on the back, before flipping it over. The brightness of the screen irritated him, and he felt himself closing his eyes before slowly opening them again. He had… over a hundred notifications? He frowned. That couldn’t be right, he hadn’t talked to anyone outside of his workplace other than his family members in the past… well, since college, really. He opened up his Facebook, and stared at the screen with wide eyes.

Oh no. No, this couldn’t be happening. He scrolled through his feed, not believing his eyes. But as picture after picture of him getting more and more wasted of a night he clearly could not remember went before him, Virgil felt the hammering in his head worsen. Nonono, this was all wrong. He didn’t go to parties! He didn’t take  _ selfies _ , for crying out loud, not when he had such large bags under his eyes. Though the pictures sure made him look like he didn’t have any bags under his eyes. Wait, why did his face look even pastier than usual- oh, god no.

Virgil dashed out of his room and nearly slammed his bathroom door open. Most things seemed to be in order: his towel was hanging against the wall, and his toothbrush and toothpaste were both in their rightful places. He drew his eyes towards his makeup stash, and groaned. There, sitting along his eyeliner and eyeshadow, was a newly-opened bottle of foundation, among several other things.

He heard his text tone sound, and looked at his phone to check what message he’d received.

Corbin: hey man, wow, what a night! didnt think youd be one for beer pong but you fucking KILLED IT yesterday! still up for coffee at 3?

Corbin? CORBIN? Virgil groaned loudly as he put his phone back in his pocket, choosing to ignore the message for now. Sure, he’d had a crush on the guy since their second year of college and they’d been best friends by their third year, but why now? What even happened last night?! Oh god, he probably somehow got dragged out, and had so much to drink he couldn’t even remember asking the guy of his dreams out and ended up dreaming of some perfect life with a family that was far too good to be true, and now he had a date, and all these humiliating photos, and his crush was waiting for his reply and it’d been 3 minutes and he still hadn’t replied and and whatifCorbinhatedhimwhatif-

Virgil held his arm against the doorframe, catching himself just barely before he fell to the ground. What had his therapist told him to do? In for one, two, three, four, hold for seven… out for eight…. Virgil repeated the motion a couple more times, allowing himself to feel the air flowing in his lungs and the pounding of his heart to slow down to a more bearable pace. It took a few seconds, but he finally managed to calm down enough to try thinking through everything a little more… well, a little less anxiously.

First things first, Corbin. He didn’t want to keep his friend (date?) waiting too long for a reply, but he honestly for the life of him could not remember whatever the hell this outing was supposed to be in the first place. After typing, erasing, and retyping his response a few times, he finally sent a text he was somewhat satisfied with.

Virgil: yeah sounds good. uh i might have been really hammered last night, where we meeting again?

It didn’t take more than a minute before Corbin responded. “starbucks next to campus, the one we used to study at all the time. cya there!” He’d even added a thumbs up emoji at the end! What did that mean? Sighing, Virgil texted back a quick “see ya then” and put his phone away. Well, if this was a date, then he’d have to actually go out looking his best. He whipped out his phone and frowned at the photos that’d been taken of him last night. It certainly looked like him there, but the expressions on his face were far too goofy, and his makeup perfect enough to hide all his acne scars, and even seemed to give him a slightly more angular look. The longer he looked at the images, the more confused he got, before he finally shook himself. He could think about this later, he had a (possible) date to prepare for. Stripping himself of the dirty t-shirt and shorts he had on, Virgil stepped into the shower, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand.

\---

He’d arrived at the Starbucks a good full hour early, his empty latte cup already feeling cold in his hands. He’d been playing a rhythm game on his phone to pass the time, the music calming his nerves as he waited. Every once in a while he’d look up, looking for his friend’s brown hair, though even if he could see his friend, his hair probably wouldn’t have been the best way to look for him. He checked the time on his phone for what felt like the seventy-second time. 2:54, and yet still no Corbin.

When he’d finished a couple more games and Corbin still hadn’t showed up, Virgil felt his breathing become shallow. Did he get the time wrong? Maybe Corbin didn’t like him and had stood him up. Or he’d dreamed the entire exchange? He checked his phone’s messages just in case. No, the texts were still there, clearly stating 3. So that means Corbin hated him. Oh god, if only he hadn’t waited so long to reply earlier. If only-

“Hey, sorry I’m late, man!”

Virgil looked up and let out a quiet sigh of relief. “It’s alright!” he said, quietly stuffing his empty cup into his backpack.

Corbin walked up to him and grinned widely, and Virgil couldn’t help as he smiled back shyly in return. “I didn’t make you wait too long, did I?”

“N-no, not at all.”

“Hey, can you watch my stuff real quick? Gonna buy myself a drink, and we can catch up.” Virgil nodded, and Corbin winked before heading towards the line. As he watched his friend walk away, Virgil found his mind wandering again. He’d been so caught up, first preparing for the meet up, and then wondering if the other man was going to show up, that he hadn’t had time to wonder about the encounter itself, but now that they were both there, he found himself worrying. They’d known each other for a few years now, so it wasn’t like he needed to worry about a good first impression. But what sorts of conversation topics would they have? How much eye contact would be too much, too little? What if he laughed too loudly?

Before he could go even deeper into his thoughts, Virgil saw Corbin making his way back towards him, with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Here, an apology for making you wait,” Corbin said, setting down a steaming grande cup in front of Virgil.

Virgil smiled, deciding it would be better to accept the gift than say he’d already gotten a drink. “Thanks, man. Guess you still remember my order?”

Corbin snorted in mock offense. “Dude, you get the same cup of latte every time. So unless I somehow got my memory modified in the last year and a half since I last saw you, I’m pretty sure I remember your order.”

“And you still get a caramel macchiato, with enough drizzle to drown a small village?”

“What can I say, I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

The two of them continued to chat, Virgil surprised at just how…  _ natural _ it felt to talk to Corbin. It was almost as if no time had passed at all between the two of them, as they talked about their jobs, family, and just various bits of gossip they’d picked up from social media.

“Oh, and speaking of, remember when Ryan got so wasted he stripped in front of everyone and started dancing around in a bunny outfit? Man, last night was lit.”

Virgil laughed nervously, suddenly tensing up from the change in subject. “Yeaaaah, actually, I’m not entirely sure what happened last night. You know me, lightweight and all that.”

“What! Seriously?” Corbin stared at him for a second, a contemplative look on his face. “Well, you did act pretty differently yesterday, with all the hooting and hollering and pole dancing.”

Pole… dancing? “Yeah, I, uh, don’t remember anything about last night at all. I just kinda woke up this morning with this awful migraine, and like, over nine thousand Facebook notifications.”

“Oh dude, be glad I didn’t post these up for everyone to see, then. Here, let me show you.” Corbin pulled his phone out and scooted closer to Virgil, making the latter blush a little which he tried to hide by taking a sip from his cup. “Yeah, that’s you winning beer pong, and here’s a video I took of the pole dancing, dunno if you wanna watch that-”

“We can skip it, I don’t want to see me making a fool of myself.”

“Actually, you weren’t so bad,” Corbin said, raising an eyebrow. “Slipped a few times a first, but you’ve got some moves. And a fine butt.”

Virgil blinked. Did he… did he just flirt?

“Oh, and you didn’t tell me you were taking singing lessons! I didn’t get everything, but man, you were really busting it out on the karaoke machine!” Not even waiting for a response, Corbin hit the play button, and the two of them watched as the Virgil on the phone screen sang a beautiful, if somewhat slurred, version of “A Whole New World”. Corbin looked at him with a grin. “You even got Jasmine’s part right!”

“What can I say, I do love Disney,” Virgil stated as smugly as he could, inwardly panicking. Oh god, oh god, Corbin was gonna think he was a needy, perverted piece of crap. He didn’t realize that getting himself that drunk would make him so… saucy! Actually, he couldn’t even remember going to the party in the first place. Or anything that had happened yesterday. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, Virgil discreetly took out his phone and checked the time. It’d only been an hour and a half, but he felt like he’d had his fill of being out in a social situation on a Sunday. “It was great seeing you again, man, but I gotta get home and make some dinner.”

“Aw, already? I feel like I just got here!” Corbin sighed and put his jacket on. “Hey, are you free next weekend as well? It’s just been so long, and I feel like there’s just so much more we can talk about.”

A second date? Wow, so he hadn’t screwed it up! Unfortunately… “Sorry, man, but I gotta take Ann to a check-up on Saturday, and she gets hissy if I don’t stay with her after an appointment.” Seeing Corbin’s crestfallen face, Virgil quickly added, “I mean, maybe the weekday is okay? I have Wednesday off this week. Or next weekend?”

“Ah, I work on the weekdays, so it’s gotta be on a weekend. Maybe the week after that?”

“Works for me.”

“Great! Hey, do you mind if I bring Sloane with me next time?”

Virgil froze. “Sloane?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you probably don’t remember him. He’s my boyfriend, we’ve been going out for about nine months now.”

Virgil took a deep breath, brain not fully processing what Corbin had just said. After a second, he found himself saying, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be happy to meet him,” with what felt like a half-smile, half-grimace plastered onto his face.

“Awesome! See you then.” And with a wave, Corbin left, leaving a confused Virgil waving absentmindedly behind him.

Virgil stood there like that for a good minute, before finally snapping himself out of the daze. So his date had  _ not _ been a date after all, just a get together between two friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. Cool. Fine. Yeah, that was okay. What was decidedly  _ not _ okay was that fact that apparently there were now people who had seen him a) drunk from beer pong, b) pole-dance, and c) karaoke a duet by himself like the lonely, single waste of space he was. He quietly packed up his belongings and left the cafe, his mind replaying the videos Corbin had showed him of the night before.

The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that the person he’d seen in the videos was not, could not possibly be him. He’d never worked out a day in his life, how’d he have been able to pole dance like that? And sure, he would occasionally sing in the shower by himself, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have the vocal training to sing quite like that. It was like someone had decided to replace him with a more idealized version of himself: popular, athletic, talented. But he was none of those things, so how had that even happened?   
  
Then he thought back to the strange dream he had, the one he couldn’t quite forget like all the other dreams he’d ever had. The barking of excited dogs around him, the cool, crisp autumn breeze, the sweetness of the ice cream… Virgil shook his head. No, that was definitely not possible, he told himself. But just, what if…

As he neared the grocery store near his apartment complex, Virgil paused for a second before turning into the parking lot. Well, even if it had been a dream, he was definitely still craving some ice cream. Might as well buy some for himself, and  _ then _ he could have his existential crisis in the comfort of his room.


	3. Knowing that something is off (What is?) (Something)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Some explicit language. Again, nothing much, but it's always good to have some warning, right?

It’d been a few days since his strange experience. When he’d woken up on Sunday and found himself back in his own room, he’d been a little bummed out, thinking everything that had happened the day before had only been a dream. He’d told his brother all about how he’d dreamt he was a teacher, and he’d walked around a city that looked very much like their own, but a few of the shops were different and none of the faces looked familiar. He’d gone into a bakery, and one of the workers called him “Logan” and started asking him questions about some paper they were writing. It was all so incredibly bizarre! “It was like I’d become another person!” he had said. His brother had then looked at him and asked if he enjoyed their outing to the park the other day. “What? What outing? When did we go to the park?” he’d said. All in all, that conversation had been very odd and confusing for the both of them, and they’d agreed to table the discussion for another day.

Thank god for that, too, Patton thought as he started straightening out his desk. He’d gotten off work early, after going about an hour overtime the day before helping a poor little bulldog mother give birth to seven healthy little puppies, so he could spend the rest of the day cleaning up his apartment. He may be in his 20s, but this whole adulting thing was a heck of a lot harder than anyone could have prepared him for. Nothing he couldn’t handle, though!

As he put his things into various boxes and containers for safekeeping (he’d never been one to throw stuff away, even if it was only for their sentimental purposes), he found himself flipping through the various journals he had. He had a habit of writing down his thoughts and experiences every day, and he liked looking back on them to relive those moments. He flipped to the entry for Saturday; he’d already forgotten much of what had happened that day, so it was a good thing he wrote things down.

_Um, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be doing this, but I found all these writings so I guess I might as well continue them? I also don’t seem to have a blog to write my thoughts anyway, so even if this is a dream, I still need some way to express everything. So here goes._

That… did not sound like him at all. Patton frowned. Supposed to be? Blog? None of that made any sense to him, not to mention just how unsure and pensive the words sounded. Heck, even the handwriting looked different, smaller and scratchier compared to his larger, more rounded handwriting. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone had found his journal and started writing in it without him knowing. Which was Pattonedly absurd! He always locked his door whenever he went out and nobody had been in his apartment all weekend, besides himself, of course. Curious now, he continued to read the entry, wondering what else he’d written that mysterious day

_First things first, where the fucking hell am I?_

Okay, definitely not him. He never swore, not even to himself.

_First things first, where the fucking hell am I? Everything is too bright and cheerful. My cat pillow isn’t even here! Have I been kidnapped? Oh god, oh god oh god I hope not. Augh, my phone is ringing!_

_Okay, that wasn’t my phone, but I panicked and picked it up anyway. Apparently some guy, Ian? Is gonna pick me up later today? And take me to a dog park? With his kid? I tried telling him I wasn’t Patton, but he kept telling me not to joke around. What is going on?!_

_Apparently I need glasses. When did my eyesight get so bad? And why is there a pair of glasses on the nightstand exactly the prescription I need? This is all so weird. Well, guess I should go see if I’ve actually been kidnapped and being held prisoner here._

_Update: it’s now 11:37, I took a walk around the back. This place looks exactly like my own apartment, and I’m even in the same room. Not kidnapped, I don’t think so at least, if I could go so far outside without getting forced back in. None of this makes sense!_

_Oh shit, Ian’s here. I guess I gotta go._

_Alright, I’m back. Ian’s not a bad guy, I don’t think? His kid kept calling me “Uncle Pat” and he kept saying how as brothers we gotta help each other out, and all that stuff. Pretty chill. He took me out to lunch, well, brunch, after he heard I’d skipped breakfast. I don’t see what the big deal is, but apparently “It’s the most important meal of the day”! The park he took me to is apparently a dog park, and I might not be a dog person, but… wow. Anyone would be a dog person after petting as many as I did today. Though they’re still kind of a slobbery mess. Thank god Ann’s antisocial and doesn’t try to lick me every 5 seconds._

_Skipping dinner, this isn’t my place even if I have the keys here. I wouldn’t feel right using someone else’s stuff. It’s funny, this place has the same address as mine but it’s just so… different. Even with the curtains drawn and the sun down, it still feels like I’m standing outside on a summer day. Well, minus the heat and humidity. So I guess it doesn’t feel like a summer day. It’s just bright and obnoxious._

_Not sure what else to do. Ended up watching Black Cauldron from the 15th and a half time. Not sure why I’m using this guy’s phone, but he doesn’t have any kind of social media downloaded save for Facebook, so I ended up scrolling through his feed like some sort of creeper. Looks like he shares the same last name as me, and birthday. Okay, I started getting weirded out by how similar we looked so I put that away. Don’t wanna look at it again._

_Shit, when did it hit 5am? What the hell have I even been doing? I gotta go to bed. It felt weird trying to sleep on this guy’s bed so I guess I’ll sleep on the ground._

_Hey man, if you’re reading this, sorry I ended up writing in your stuff and using your stuff without permission. Dunno what happened. Hopefully this really is all just a dream and I’m apologizing for no reason._

_-Virgil_

Patton blinked, then blinked again. He skimmed through the entry again, rubbing his eyes and cleaning his glasses to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Nope, yeah, this was not his entry. But he didn’t remember going anywhere else on Saturday, so how did this even-

Bakery. Paper. Logan. He _had_ been somewhere else on Saturday, but that didn’t make sense; it wasn’t like he was really somewhere else. But then again, “Virgil” had also thought he’d been in a dream. Was it possible…

Picking up his phone, Patton opened his messaging app and sent a quick text to Ian.

Pattoncake: hey u busy?

Less than a minute later, he got a response back.

Big Bro!!: nah im free  
Big Bro!!: just got off work  
Pattoncake: awesome!!! can i go over??? wanna talk about some stuff  
Big Bro!!: oh sure! you okay?  
Pattoncake: yeah just have something on my mind, dw about it!  
Pattoncake: i’ll be over at 7?  
Big Bro!!: actually is 6 good? im making dinner right now if you wanna join  
Pattoncake: sure! ttyl

Patton sighed with relief and pocketed his phone. Maybe if he talked it out, things would make sense. He glanced at the clock on his desk, and gasped before spinning around. He only had five minutes to get ready before he had to leave!

\---

“And then I said, ‘Wow, that was pretty _ruff_ ! I can’t believe we _bulled_ so many of them out!’”

Patton grinned as Ian rolled his eyes, while Ed, his nephew, giggled sweetly. He really enjoyed hanging out with his family like this, and missed the days when such was the norm. It wasn’t that he hated living by himself, but sometimes, well, oftentimes, it would be pretty lonely. He didn’t want to impose on his parents, not when they were near retirement age, nor did he want to stay with Ian, who now had his own family to care for. So he’d take any kind of family time he could.

“That’s so cool, Uncle Pat!” Ed said. “How many puppies? And can we keep one?”

“Now now, kiddo, you already have Foster and Squiggles here with you! And besides, I’m not sure if the owner would be willing to part with such adorable little things so soon.” Ed pouted, and Patton couldn’t help himself as he bent over and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Tell you what, though, maybe next time your daddy can bring you over, and I’ll show you around. How does that sound?”

“Pat, you sure about that?” Ian asked, eyebrow raised. Ed, however, was already excitedly clapping his hands.

“Oh, please Daddy! I want to see all the kittens and puppies and all the cute animals!”

“I mean, I’m sure it’ll be no trouble,” Patton said with a wink. “I’d have to ask Dot, but I’m sure she won’t say no! She’s a real sweetheart.” Ed squealed happily, pumping his fist in the air.

Ian smiled at his son before picking him up. “Alright, kiddo, I know you’d love to talk to your uncle a bit more, but it’s bedtime for you!”

Ed squirmed, flailing about unhappily. “But it’s only 8!”

“I know, but you still need to wash up and brush your teeth. Say good night, now.”

“Awww!”

Patton gently pat his nephew on the head. “Good night, kiddo!”

“Night, Uncle Pat,” Ed said, a hint of a whine in his voice. Patton watched as Ian carried Ed upstairs, before pulling out his notebook from his laptop bag. He knew it might be a while before his brother returned, having to take care of the little tyke, so he figured the best way to pass time would be to start on his journal entry for the day.

He’d only just finished writing about work when he heard the soft thudding of footsteps coming towards him. He looked up and saw Ian with a messy mop of wet hair, and couldn’t help giggling at the sight. “Aw, did Ed splash you in the bath again?”

“No, but Foster did.” Ian rummaged through the kitchen for a second before returning with a hand towel. “But enough about me. What’s up, Pat? You don’t usually ask to meet up on a work day.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably, unsure where to start. “Well… do you remember Saturday?”

“Mhm?”

“Did you notice anything… different? About me, I mean?”

Ian paused for a moment, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. “Sort of. You don’t mean you were wearing a new shirt, do you?”

“I- what?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear that shirt before. The one with the skull?”

Patton blinked. “Oh! No, I don’t think so! I got it last Thursday, it’s reversible! Well, the skull, I mean. It’s white on one side, and all pretty and flowery on the other!”

“Oh, huh. Where’d you get it? I kinda like it!”

“Zara- but that’s not what I meant! Like, was I acting strangely at all?”

“Pat, what is this about?”

Patton took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves. He still felt jittery, but at least he could make some sense of the mess of thoughts running through his mind. “I-I don’t really know how to say this, and you’re probably going to think I’m weird-”

“Patton, I always think you’re weird.”

“True, true,” Patton said, smiling slightly as he felt himself calm down. “But I mean, weirder than normal?”

“I mean, you work at a clinic that specifically cares for dogs and cats, the latter of which you’re allergic to, you make really bad puns at the drop of a hat, and you think the word for being an adult is ‘adultery’, yet you know that ‘infinitesimal’ means very small.”

“What?”

“I don’t think anything you say can make me think you’re any weirder than you already are, and even if it surprisingly did, you’re still my brother and I’ll always love you.” Scooting closer so that the two of them were leaning against each other, Ian said, “Now, what’s troubling my little brother so much?”

“Well… you know that dream I told you about?”

“Which one, the one about the river of pasta, or the one about- the one you told me on Sunday?”

“The second one, yeah.”

Ian nodded. “What about it?”

Patton hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Like, I don’t think… I don’t think it was a dream, you know?”

“I don’t think I follow.”

“I mean,” Patton said, “I think it was something I actually went through. Like, I’d somehow ended up going through someone else’s life, and lived through their day, and stuff.” Patton found himself hugging one of the couch pillows closer to his body as he talked. “But that’s not possible, right?”

“I- no, I’m pretty sure people don’t just randomly live through someone else’s life,” Ian said with a frown. “But what does this have to do with how you were acting on Saturday?”

“I don’t remember anything I did on Saturday, that’s why. Not what I had for breakfast, not the shirt I wore, heck, I can’t even remember the dog park, and I’m sure I would’ve remembered that!” When he didn’t get a response, Patton turned his head to look at his brother, who seemed to be lost in thought. “Ian?”

“Sorry, was just… thinking.” Ian leaned forward and leaned his chin against his fingers. “You’re right, though, you were acting differently that day. You barely talked or even smiled, and not once did I hear a pun come out of your mouth. I think you were slouching more than usual, too, though you were usually behind us so I couldn’t really tell.” Ian paused. “Wait, you mean that… wasn’t you?”

“I think it was me,” Patton said softly, “but not really me. It looked like me, right?”

“Oh god, Pat, do you have a doppelganger?”

Patton cocked his head to the side. “A double Gengar?”

“A look-alike, I mean.”

“No! At least, I don’t think so! You picked me up from my apartment, right?”

“Yeah- wait, if you don’t remember Saturday, how do you know that I picked you up?”

“I-” Patton paused, unsure if he should continue. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Ian really would think he was crazy. But he’d already come so far, and Ian would never think badly of him. They were family, after all. Slowly, Patton pulled out the journal from beside him and flipped back to the page he’d read that afternoon. “Here, read that,” he said, passing the journal over to his brother.

Patton watched Ian’s expression as he went through the entry, though his brother kept a carefully stoic face as he read. He saw him reach the end, before flipping back to the beginning and going through it again. “What, what do you think?” he asked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

Ian closed the journal and returned it to Patton. “Honestly, I’m not sure. You didn’t write that?” Patton shook his head. “And you don’t remember Saturday at all?” Another shake. Ian sighed. “Has this ever happened before? Memory loss, blank spaces in your day?”

“I mean, this was a blank space for a whole day, but no, I don’t think so.”

Ian nodded. “I really don’t know what to say, Pat. It’s all just, well, weird.”

Patton shuffled nervously. “You don’t think I’m lying, do you?”

“Oh, Patton.” Ian smiled warmly at him, putting his arm around his brother and hugging him tightly. “I know my little brother would never lie to me. And I don’t think _you’re_ weird, not for this, I mean. I just think the whole situation is just… very odd.”

“Well, that’s certainly an _odd_ acious claim to make!”

Ian snorted. “In any case, it’s probably nothing to worry about. Maybe someone at work found your notebook and wrote an entry in it to mess with you.”

“Yeah, well, if they did, they did a pretty good _job_ confusing me!”

Ian groaned. “Seriously, I’m not even sure how we’re related sometimes.”

Patton grinned in return. “Aw, what’s the matter? Are my puns getting that much _vetter_?”

“Stop, no, now you’re just messing with me.”

“Seriously, though," Patton said, his expression softening up a little, "thanks for listening to me, Ian.”

Ian smiled. “Not a problem at all, little brother,” he replied, reaching over to give his brother a good pat. Patton raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Well, thanks for giving me a _Patton_ the back, then!”

“Okay, now you’re irritating me. Out! Shoo!”

Patton laughed, packing up his stuff before making his way towards the front of the house. Turning towards his brother, he asked, “Do you still need me to look after Ed tomorrow?”

“If you don’t mind,” Ian said, opening the door. “See you then?”

“Yep. Laters!” Patton waved as he walked away towards his car, the cool autumn chill tingling against his skin. He opened the car door and turned on the engine, reading the time. 9:47. Whelp, better get home and tuck in for the night! Patton turned on the radio and hummed along as he drove back, feeling better than he had since he’d first read the mysterious journal entry. They hadn’t really sorted anything out, but it probably wasn’t a big deal anyway, he told himself as he walked towards his apartment. It was just one day, he thought as he brushed his teeth. It won't happen again, anyway, he wrote in his journal entry for the day. No biggie at all, he said as he closed his eyes to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm, and opened his eyes to the sight of an unfamiliar wall, Patton knew he had been very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter was a bit of a doozy to write, mostly because I couldn't figure out where I wanted to take this. I knew I wanted the POV to be Patton this time (don't worry, Roman's coming next), but it took me a while of brainstorming ideas before finally coming up with something.


	4. Great Kookilie-Pookilies, I Don't Know Who I am Anymore

Roman grinned as he examined himself in the mirror, admiring his body. Well, not _his_ body, but it moved whenever he asked it to move, and he could feel anything that happened to it, so for all intents and purposes, it was his body. And maybe he wasn’t as buff or whatever as he was in his usual body, but he did look quite handsome even with a slimmer figure. He was a little upset his eyesight wasn’t as good, but at least it gave him a good excuse to wear glasses. He looked pretty dashing in them, if he did say so himself.

This was now the second time he’d found himself in someone else’s body, and he swore he was more prepared to play the part this time than he was last time. Sure, waking up at 6 in the morning was never a pleasant experience, but it had given him more than enough time to figure things out. He’d read every single text message on his phone to get a better sense of who he was supposed to be, and even gone through some emails and Facebook posts for good measure. From what he'd learned, he was a grad student named Logan getting a PhD in astronomy, who also happened to be a TA. Easy enough. He appeared to be a bit of a nerd; not his favorite role to play, but he was never one to back off from a challenge. And, thank goodness, he appeared to be the type of person who stuck to a very tight schedule. Not that he enjoyed having schedules, but when he had a detailed weekly planner to refer to on Google Calendar at his fingertips, it sure made his job that much easier.

Picking up his stuff, Roman started making his way out of the apartment. He had some time before his first and only class of the day, so why not use that time to just relax? He’d already had breakfast, showered, and changed (he was a little upset he didn’t have any makeup to use, but at least the glasses covered up some of the worst parts), and it looked like everything he needed for the day had already been tucked away neatly into his backpack.

He walked into the parking garage and frowned, suddenly realizing he didn’t know what his car supposedly looked like, or which floor it would be on. Roman sighed and took out his keys, pressing the panic button every couple steps until, finally, he heard it cry out for him on the 11th floor. Grinning, Roman ran up to the car and gave it a small pat on its hood before climbing in, the seat snuggling comfortably into him like a dog might after not having seen its human for a whole day. He adjusted the seat and mirrors for himself before buckling in and heading out, not quite sure where he was headed. But hey, this was an adventure! What better way to get to know this strange, new world than by exploring?

Apparently, though, like the last time, this world wasn’t quite as strange or fantastic as he’d hoped it would be. The apartment was in the exact same location as his own. The area looked like a small college town, just like where he lived. There was a bus stop across the street from his building, exactly like the one he used to get to campus every day. He was willing to bet the college “Logan” went to was even the same as his! Roman huffed to himself. Great, he gets to experience someone else’s life, and he doesn’t even get to do anything all that different from what he already did.

Spotting a small shopping area, Roman pulled in and parked his car. He pulled out his phone and checked the time again, before nodding to himself. He had a good hour, hour and a half before class, so he could probably look around the area. His eyes landed on a cute little shop which stood out from the rest with its pastel colors and loopy letters, and he found himself walking towards it.

When he entered, he heard the tinkling of bells above him and immediately, the scent of freshly baked bread wafted over him. Roman had to take a moment to collect himself from the sudden onslaught of sensations before looking around. He saw someone behind the counter wave at him excitedly, and he blinked before he remembered he wasn’t Roman right now, but “Logan”.

“It’s so good to see you here again, Logan!” the man behind the counter said. He had sandy blond hair and red glasses, and wore a pink apron which had the same looping letters he saw out on the front of the shop.

“Hey, uh…” Roman snapped his fingers a couple times before giving a practiced frown. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t really remember your name.”

The man looked a little upset at that, before replacing his expression with a grin. “That’s alright; there’s a lotta people in class, anyway, it’d be hard to remember everyone. It’s Emile!”

“Emile, right,” Roman said, smiling back. “I’ll be sure to remember it.”

“Anyways, what can I do for you today? Cup of coffee, croissant?”

Roman pondered, unsure what would be in character for him to pick. “Black coffee, perhaps?”

“No cream or sugar today?” Emile asked, a little shocked. “Last time you ordered a small cup with five pumps of vanilla, and a cake pop.”

Well, five pumps might be excessive, but if Logan didn’t take his coffee black… “Sorry, I meant two creams and two sugars. I just woke up, not sure what’s gotten into me,” he said with a sheepish laugh.

Emile nodded. “You got it, one small cup with two creams and two sugars, coming up!” Finishing writing the order on a cup with a flourish, he tapped a few times on the tablet in front of him before stating, “That’ll be $1.59, please.” Roman fumbled through his pockets for the wallet and counted out the exact change, double checking to make sure he had the right amount before handing it over.

Giving Emile a wave, Roman walked over to a table and sat down. He took out his phone and started going through the various apps on it, though he wasn’t really paying attention to anything on the screen. Playing an uptight nerd was tiring and so restricting. He couldn’t pull out any grand gestures, or gesticulate, or even speak too loudly! Roman sighed in frustration, though managed to plaster a smile back on his face when he heard someone calling out for a “Logan”, getting up to retrieve his coffee.

A few moments later, he heard the pattering of footsteps approach him, and he looked up to see Emile standing next to him, his apron replaced by a grey jacket. The other man set a bag on the table and pushed it towards him. “Here, this is for you.”

Roman looked at the paper bag curiously before taking it. It felt heavier in his hands than he’d expected it. Peering in, he saw an assortment of various pastries and baked goods inside, and felt his eyes widen. “I-I can’t accept this! I have to pay you back, how much-”

“No, no! You don’t have to. It’s my thanks for helping me out on the paper the other day!” Roman looked back up to see Emile smiling sweetly. “I know I shouldn’t bother you outside of office hours like that, not without an appointment, but you still took the time to give me a few pointers and, I just… I wanted to let you know how grateful I was for that.”

“That’s- that’s awfully kind of you, Emile!” Roman said, feeling fairly flustered and unsure of what to say. He took out a slice of what appeared to be lemon cake and bit into it, marveling at its soft, slightly moist texture and mild sweetness. Suddenly, Roman had an idea, and offered the bag to Emile. “Take something, please; I’m sure I can’t finish this all by myself, and they probably won’t taste as good later.” Emile eyed the bag before hesitantly reaching in, taking out a green macaroon and nibbling on it. Leaning back, Roman asked, “So, are you off work now?”

“Yep, my shift ended right after you came in. I have a quiz in an hour, so I can’t stay long, but I wanted to, ah, show my appreciation!” Turning around, Emile gave a quick wave, which Roman returned, before leaving out the door. Roman watched the door close behind him before returning to his phone. He double-checked his schedule to make sure he had everything right, before suddenly realizing something.

He didn’t technically have to go to class.

It wasn’t like him going to class was going to help whoever this “Logan” was learn anything. He felt a smile tugging on his lips as he stood up. He didn’t have to go to class! He didn’t even have to play hooky, it wasn’t _his_ class to take anyway. But what could he even do? He took out his phone and brought up the Maps app, looking around for interesting things to do. He could go to a movie, but he could do that anytime. He really didn’t want to stay at home doing nothing, not when he had this sudden surge of energy. He thought back to the dreary closet he’d seen, filled with plain-colored shirts, t-shirts, suits, and ties, and he suddenly knew exactly what he was going to do for the rest of the day.

Grinning to himself, Roman looked up the location of the closest mall before heading back out towards his car. Would probably be a good idea to drop off the sweets Emile had given him so they don’t spoil, and plus, going back to his apartment give him another opportunity to fully assess just what kind of outfits to buy for himself.

\---

Roman hummed happily to himself as he organized his closet, sorting through the clothes as he played dress-up with himself. He hadn’t want to go too far out of this Logan’s comfort zone, so he had to force himself not to buy the crop tops and brightly-patterned red-and-white sweater he’d found (god, if only he could have that in his own wardrobe!), but he was quite pleased with the haul he’d brought in. It hadn’t been very cheap, but Roman had made sure to go for the discount sections whenever he could. All in all, he’d spent maybe $400 on twelve new pieces of clothing, which wasn’t bad, if he did say so himself.

He smiled as he paired a dark blue sweater over a white shirt, completing the look with a pair of black jeans. There, still nerdy, but a stylish kind of nerd. He glanced down at his phone to check the time. Forty minutes until he had to go TA. Better start making his way there, then. He searched for the address of the building his class would be in, and frowned. Yep, he was right, same college, though thankfully it was on the other side of where he would’ve usually taken classes, so at least it wasn’t too familiar. Grabbing his backpack, Roman strode outside towards the parking garage; he knew it wouldn’t take him too long to drive to campus, but seeing how this world was so similar to his own, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had to engage in Parking Wars™ when he got there.

Ten minutes of driving, fifteen minutes of yelling at people for stealing his parking spots, and ten minutes of looking for the lecture hall later, Roman finally found the right door and walked through it, too tired to care about acting like an uptight Ravenclod as he dramatically slumped into a seat and gave a loud huff. A couple students turned to look at him curiously, but he purposefully ignored them and turned to his phone instead. God, why didn’t this guy have any interesting apps on his phone? All he had was Facebook and LinkedIn for social media, and Roman personally felt offended that he didn’t even have Instagram. Honestly! How has this guy lived his whole life without Instagram? It was outrageous!

“Alright, I know I usually have office hours after class today, but I have an appointment and won’t be able to make it.” Roman put his phone away and looked up, not having realized the professor had walked in while he’d been preoccupied. At least TAing was easy, from what he knew; sit in class, grade papers, answer questions people might ask him during office hours, which he thankfully did not have that day. He pretended to pay attention as the professor talked something about electromagnetic spectrums and how they blah blah blah and yadda yadda. Very fascinating stuff, actually, if he’d been in the class from the very first day. As it were, however, Roman felt very lost, and very confused.

At some point in the lecture, Roman found himself glancing around the room at the various students. There had to be well over a hundred of them since it looked like most of the seats were filled. Many of them looked like they’d just gotten out of high school, which didn’t surprise Roman; this was an introduction to astronomy course, as far as he could tell, which a lot of people tended to pick in their first year. He found his eyes lingering on the back of familiar sandy blond hair, and it was only when the owner of said hair scratched the back of his neck did Roman turn his gaze elsewhere. An hour and fifteen minutes passed by far too slowly, but when the professor finally dismissed everyone, Roman found himself surrounded by students clambering for his attention.

“Hey, I’m a little confused about this part of the reading from page 214-”

“I’d like some clarification about-”

“I don’t really understand-”

“Yeah, um, if you have any questions, please feel free to email me after class!” Roman shouted, looking around wildly for some kind of help. Unfortunately, it appeared that the professor had already left, and Roman inwardly groaned. “I actually have something to, ah, attend as well, but I’ll be sure to answer any question you have ASAP!” He made sure to avoid making eye contact with any of the other students as he quickly left the room. It wasn’t that he didn’t like helping people, but, well, this was something way out of his league. He was an actor, for god’s sake, not some Einstein wannabe!

On his way home, Roman thought back to the schedule in his phone. All that was left was “grade homework”, which he really did not think he could do, so he decided that he should treat himself for doing so well being a TA by doing what he did best. He pulled out his phone and, after a quick search, entered in a phone number, grinning to himself as he unlocked his car

Arriving at his complex, Roman parked his car in the spot he’d found it in that morning and walked into his apartment. He rummaged through the freezer and grinned when he found what he was looking for, grabbing it and a spoon before plopping them down on table in front of the couch. He found a bottle of Gatorade and, surprisingly, a wine glass, and grinned to himself as he poured some of the rich, red liquid out for himself. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, grinning when he saw the Netflix option. He heard a knock from the front door, and happily took the box from the delivery guy before returning to the couch. Rifling through the choices for a bit, he finally found a movie perfect for the occasion and selected it as he nestled himself further into his seat.

“ _In the beginning, there was only ocean, until the mother island emerged…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman, please top ruining everything. Including me. I ended up rewriting this chapter like, 3 times, ugh.


	5. Sure, Some of These Scenarios May Not Be Verisimilitudinous...

Logan felt his eye twitch.

It had been bad enough when he’d woken up and found a half-empty pizza box in front of him. It had gotten worse when he’d walked into his closet after a good, long shower and saw about a dozen new pieces of clothing. He thought things couldn’t get worse after he saw that his bank account was now somehow $413 poorer. But no, apparently, he was now down to 2 absences for one of his classes, and that was the final straw.

Logan prided himself in being a person of logic and reasoning. He never let his emotions get the better of him, to cloud his perception. He had a schedule set for every day, which he followed to a T. But when mysterious forces decided to mess with him for no explainable reason, what was a man to do?

The only thing a man could do, really. He yelled.

And maybe punched a pillow, too.

It took a good two, three minutes, but after he felt all his pent-up anger and frustration leave his body, he allowed himself to step back and fully analyze the situation. This was the second time now, the first time he’d at least come back to find himself in his own bed and nothing too amiss, save for the fact that his calendar was a day ahead of what he thought it should’ve been, and the fact that he had an unfinished stack of homework to grade. This time, however… oh boy. Just thinking about it all made his heart beat erratically, and Logan took a couple deep breaths to calm himself.

Well, no use crying over spilled milk, he told himself as he started gathering up the trash. On the bright side of things, he didn’t have any classes on Friday, so he could use the day to clean up after whoever made this mess.

By the time he had vacuumed and taken out the trash, it was already 9am, and Logan realized he somehow still hadn’t had his breakfast yet. He wondered what he should eat, glancing around his kitchen before his eyes landed on the slightly-crumpled paper bag sitting on the counter. He walked over towards it and looked inside, and he couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at the odd assortment of pastries inside. Well, at least that was one meal out of the way, he thought as he fished out a croissant for himself. He was surprised how, despite being a day old, the bread actually didn’t taste all that bad. Curious, Logan tilted the bag back to better read the label. Hm, The Smart Cookie. He might have to check that place out sometime.

Speaking of… how did he even have this bag in the first place? How had he gotten into this entire situation in the first place? He had wondered if someone had maybe stolen his credit card when he had checked his bank account earlier, but after totaling up all the receipts he’d found littered in his pockets, he realized that no, he was dealing with something else entirely. He couldn’t remember how he’d even gotten the receipts, nor could he recall where he’d bought the new articles of clothing that lined his closet. What had he even done yesterday?

Images of bright lights and sedated animals suddenly sprang to his mind, accompanied by a strong smell of antiseptics and the feeling of latex gloves on his hands, but Logan quickly shook that thought away. No, that hadn’t been real, just like how Elliot hadn’t been real. He’d merely overslept on Saturday, probably tired from overwork. And yesterday was… Logan frowned. He had no logical explanation for what had happened yesterday. Sure, he could assume his time as some sort of veterinarian technician had simply been a fabrication of his mind, but that still didn’t explain why he was now dealing with crumbs on his couch. He was utterly behind schedule with everything, not to mention his tighter budget. It was like he’d somehow had his consciousness swi-

Whoa, no, no. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Of all things he could consider,  _ that _ had to be the most ridiculous, out-of-place theory he could’ve thought of. Maybe it was time he put this whole thing aside, and focus on the actual issue on hand. He still had homework to grade, and his own homework to finish, not to mention having to recalculate his living expenses for the next few months. Maybe he should consider getting a part-time job during the winter to make up for… recent losses.

Sighing, Logan took out his phone to check his schedule for the day. He swiped an index finger over the groove in the back, and was about to open up his calendar app when he noticed his numerous number of email notifications. Great, more work for him to do. Logan groaned as he started going through them, wondering what he could have possibly done in a past life to deserve this.

Four hours and twelve minutes later, Logan had only just finished grading homeworks and replying to emails; he had yet to get started on the things he needed to get done for his own classes, but his stomach growled loudly from lack of sustenance, and he was, unfortunately, only human. Logan walked into the kitchen and opened his fridge, wondering what he should make. He was likely going to have to survive off of ramen in the very near future, so it would be best if he made something with more nutritional value. He reached for the broccoli and was about to grab it when he remembered the paper bag that he’d left on the countertop.

No, he chided himself, a diet of carbohydrates would do him no favors. However, he really couldn’t help himself as he took out a bagel and bit into it. Silly urges out of the way, he could finally focus on- maybe another wouldn’t hurt, right?

A few minutes later, Logan had crumpled up the now-empty bag and tossed it into the trash can. He was disappointed in himself for giving in so easily, but he allowed himself to feel better by telling himself that at least he now had time to focus on finishing his work. Sitting back down at the table, Logan opened up his laptop and skimmed through his calendar to see if he had anything due anytime soon. He was ahead in his readings, at least, but he still had the problem set in his Computational Astrophysics class that was due on Tuesday.

As he worked through the homework, however, Logan found his mind wandering back to his day yesterday. He had no memory of anything that had transpired in his apartment or his classes, and yet he could clearly recall bumbling around in a pet hospital and having to pretend he knew what he was doing. He remembered some guy dropping by his apartment, or rather, the apartment he’d woken up in, and leaving some random four-year-old with him.

“Thanks again for the help, Pat!” the other man had said at the time. Logan, who had been too taken aback to properly process anything, had only mutely nodded in response as he watched the man’s quickly retreating figure. By the time he found his voice again, the man had already left.

Dealing with the child had been a  _ nightmare _ . Sure, as the oldest of four siblings, Logan had experience corralling children around, but trying to act like “Uncle Pat” for a kid he clearly had no relation to? It was far too much for him. The kid (Ed, as he’d found out from going through the Facebook profile that had been logged in to the phone he’d found on himself) kept asking too many questions and had tried more than once to get cuddly with him. Logan had done his best to put on a warm facade, and was more than glad when the kid’s father finally arrived three hours later to pick his son up.

Logan sighed as he opened up a new Word document; thoughts could easily become jumbled, so it was probably best he wrote things down, and hopefully get a better understanding of his strange situation. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed down that he could. He decided that he would start with the facts: he’d somehow lost more than $400, he had an absence in one of his classes, he had a bag of baked goods from “The Smart Cookie”, and he had new clothes in his closet. He then made a new list of what he remembered happening yesterday: waking up in an unfamiliar apartment, getting a text from some unknown number labeled “Dot” on a phone which was not his to come in to work, looking up his work location, floundering around in a pet hospital, and babysitting a child for some guy he’d never met.

Logan sat back and stared at the two lists. Nothing added up. Nothing from his memories matched up with the facts he’d written out. Logan groaned. What was even happening to him? He thought that writing his thoughts down might’ve cleared something up, but all it had done was make him even more baffled and frustrated. Maybe he was going mad.

Well, thinking about the situation was certainly getting him nowhere, Logan reasoned as he closed the document. Perhaps it would be better if he concentrated on working on his schoolwork, instead of dabbling in half-formed thoughts and nonsense theories. He was about to start on his homework when an idea suddenly hit him. It probably wouldn’t help him much, but as the saying goes, better safe than sorry, right?

Logan walked into his bedroom and rummaged through his desk a bit, before finding the item he’d need. Yes, perfect. It definitely wasn’t a solution for anything, but if he really was having memory issues, perhaps this would help him out along the way.

\---

“Your total is $34.78, do you have an account with us?”

The lady on the other side of the counter rolled her eyes. “No, and I keep telling you guys this every time I come here! God, why can’t you stop asking me about this?”

Virgil bit back a retort as he inhaled deeply through his nose. “Alright, are you paying by cash, debit, or credit?”

“Cash, of course,” she said with an annoyed scoff, handing him two twenties. “Wait, I think I have seventy-eight, give me a second…”

Virgil glanced behind her, relieved when he saw that there was nobody waiting on her. He heard the sound of metal clinking against each other and turned back towards the lady, accepting the change from her. He mentally added up the two quarters, two dimes, three nickels, and three pennies she’d handed him, and expertly took out a five and one dollar bill from his register. “Six dollars is your change, m’am. Thank you, have a nice- oh, okay. She’s gone,” he said, his voice suddenly dropping half an octave after he realized he’d been talking to thin air.

The light thudding of footsteps sounded behind him, and Virgil whipped around to see his manager approaching him. Oh god, he was gonna get fired, his manager had heard him and was gonna fire him for being unprofessional-

“Alright, looks like we have a lull in activity for now, so why don’t you take your break now, Virge?”

Virgil immediately felt himself relax, the tension in his shoulders loosening up. “You sure, Pavel? I know there’s not a lot of people now, but what if-”

“Chillax, man, it’ll be fine. The others can handle it for thirty minutes, don’t worry about it. Just make sure you clock out, alright?”

Virgil nodded, punching in his ID into the system and taking the little bit of receipt that printed out how many hours he’d worked so far that day. “Thanks, boss,” he said with a wave, walking out of the store briskly.

Thirty minutes for a break didn’t seem like much, but Virgil usually didn’t do too much during that time, anyway. He had considered using it as a snack break in the past, but found that the stress from working usually made him too weak to stomach anything without it somehow resurfacing. So instead, he walked over to the parking lot to go sit in his car by himself, away from wandering eyes.

Alone with his thoughts, Virgil found his mind wandering back to everything that had happened in the past few days. He, again, had no memory of the day before, save for apparently waking up and having to attend a bunch of classes at his old college for whatever reason. He’d met some guy named Elliot (who admittedly had great taste in makeup but questionable taste in fashion), and had been called “Roman” a few times, but otherwise? The day had been… lackluster, for lack of a better term. Honestly, the thing that stood out to him the most was that he had got out of bed, only to realize he didn’t have his cat pillow with him. Again.

Thankfully, he’d woken up in his own bed, in his own room this morning, with nothing very obviously out of place save for a very fidgety Ann and a random blue notebook on his kitchen table. He didn’t remember ever having that before; all his notebooks, to the best of his knowledge, were stowed away at his parents’ place, with the rest of his and his siblings’ old school work. He’d planned on reading through it when his shift ended, though perhaps a peak right now wouldn’t hurt.

Picking up the notebook, Virgil opened the cover and then held it up to eye level, careful not to rip any of the pages on accident. There only seemed to be writing on the first couple of pages, which should be enough time for him to read through before his break ended. The handwriting was round and cursive, though somewhat difficult to read due to how the letters seemed to connect to one another. He thought it looked familiar, but couldn’t quite place a finger on why.

_ October 14, 20xx _

_ Golly, what a day! I can’t believe this happened again, but here I am in someone else’s lovely apartment, so I don’t believe this is a coincidence. _

Virgil froze. Someone had been in his apartment yesterday? Did he forget to lock the front door? Hell, had he forgotten to lock his front door today? He considered dropping everything and heading back to check, before he reminded himself that he had nothing of importance at home for anyone to steal, anyway. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he continued reading.

_ I know I didn’t write anything last time because I thought I’d been dreaming, but I wanted to try this out in case I wasn’t! So, if you’re reading this, hello! Sorry for using your stuff, but I couldn’t not write this after last time, and wanted to make sure I did this before whatever brought us here took us back. Don’t worry, I bought one of those dollar notebooks, so hopefully it shouldn’t put too much of a dent on your wallet. _

_ First things first! My name is Patton, and _

Wait, Patton? Virgil wracked his head for why that name sounded so familiar. Was it an old friend? A family member? Some guy from high school?

_ My name is Patton, and I guess you must be Virgil! Your Facebook says Virgil, at least. Are you the guy who wrote in my journal on Saturday? How weird is it that this time I’m writing in your journal this time! I mean, I bought it, but with your money, so I guess that makes it yours, right? _

Saturday? Journal? The only thing he’d done on Saturday was apparently get wasted enough to forget having gone to a party, and hallucinate going to a dog park-

Oh.

OH.

Patton. That Patton! The Patton he’d been confused for. But wait… Virgil frowned. That didn’t make any sense. That Patton wasn’t real, it had been a dream-

“ _ I thought I’d been dreaming _ ”

-and he had no way to know if this was that same Patton-

“ _ Are you the guy who wrote in my journal on Saturday? _ ”

-but none of it had been real-

“ _ I’m writing in your journal this time! _ ”

Virgil groaned loudly. No no no, none of this was real, none of this made sense! Why did he share the same name as the guy he’d dreamed of being? How had this Patton even gotten this notebook to him?  And how did this guy even know what had happened in his dream?

Virgil violently shook his head. No time to think about that now, he told himself. He glanced at his phone, which showed he had less than five minutes before his break ended. He dug his nails into his skin, leaving a couple of crescent-shaped marks in his arms in an attempt to ground himself as he slowly trudged back towards the store. He hadn’t even stepped through the front door when he suddenly felt the ground lurch under him. Was there an earthquake? He tried to reach out to steady himself, but his arm felt heavy and wouldn’t respond to him. His vision clouded. Oh god, he was going to die, he hadn’t done anything in his life yet and he was going to-

Just as suddenly, the world around him stilled, and Virgil forced himself to take deep breaths before he slowly straightened himself back up. He blinked, taking in his surroundings, which was decidedly  _ not _ the parking lot he’d been in earlier, or even anywhere outdoors, for that matter. In fact, it appeared he was in someone’s apartment. He found himself touching a table, and, lifting his hand, realized he was sitting in a chair. How had he gotten there? Had he passed out?

Virgil felt around for his phone and took it out, before frowning at the starry lock screen. He’d definitely never seen that picture before, but why did something feel so familiar? It seemed to unlock under his touch, however, which only confused him more. The screen said that it was October 15, 3:49, which meant only about two minutes had passed since he’d last checked the time. Definitely not enough time for him to pass out, be carried to some stranger’s apartment, and wake up.

So then what had happened? Virgil looked around the room, hoping for clues, before his eyes landed on the laptop in front of him. Well, it certainly looked like a laptop underneath the layer of pink sticky notes that seemed to cover it. Virgil found himself bringing the laptop closer to him, to better examine it.

_ Schedule can be found on your Google Calendar app or site. It should include locations and addresses if you’re not sure where to go. _

_ Do NOT spend ANY money unless you absolutely have to. _

_ Go to class. If you don’t want to take notes, take a video with your phone. _

_ Be sure to visit The Smart Cookie at some point. _

Many other similar notes littered the top of the laptop, and several more appeared to have been stuck on to the area next to the touchpad. Virgil picked one up with a frown. That certainly didn’t answer any of his questions, until he realized why he felt a sense of familiarity.

Christ, it was happening again, wasn’t it? Virgil groaned as he held his head in his hands. He had to be going crazy at this point. Who’d ever heard of someone suddenly being transported to someone else’s place in the middle of work? Or sleep? Augh, it was all so confusing!

And Pavel! Virgil suddenly shot out of his seat, feeling his panic rising. He still had to go to work, his shift wasn’t over yet. Oh, he was so going to get fired. His boss was going to say how irresponsible he was, how he was only making excuses. God dammit, of all people, why did it have to be him?

He froze, suddenly realizing he didn’t even know where he was, or how he was going to get back. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. Maybe he should just call and at least try to explain he was going to be late, and look up his location in the meantime. Virgil nodded to himself. Yes, that was a far better plan than running out into the middle of nowhere. Taking out the phone again, he began dialing his boss’s number before firing up location services. 

“ _ The number you have dialed does not exist. Please check the number and dial again. _ ”

Virgil frowned as he re-entered the number, only to get the same message. Did he have the wrong number? He switched back over to the map app, and widened his eyes. Without thinking, he shot outside and stared at the number by the door.

When he’d confirmed that he was exactly where his apartment was supposed to be, Virgil nearly fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who had to rewrite this chapter a grand total of 6 times, and still isn't very satisfied but is giving up and calling it "good enough"?


	6. Bitterly, Jittery, and Not Very Glittery

Roman rubbed his head as he came to, his vision not quite yet fully restored. He wasn’t sure quite what had happened; he’d been in the middle of class when he suddenly felt dizzy. Had he passed out somehow?

“Stay still, you fell and hit your head pretty hard and might have a concussion,” said someone next to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fuzzy,” he said, straining his eyes to see. God, why were the lights so bright? “I- where am I?”

He felt the person beside him shift slightly. “Your boss said you fainted at work. Do you remember where you work?”

Roman felt himself frown. Work? He didn’t have work during the semester. “I don’t have a job,” he said, slightly wincing at the words. It sounded so much worse when he said it like that.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I was in class, and I fainted. I don’t remember anything else.”

“What is your name?”

“Roman Sanders?” Why did they keep asking him questions?

He heard the person make a humming sound, and, with some slight effort, managed to turn his head to look at who he was talking to. As his eyes focused, he saw a woman with long, brown hair pulled into a low ponytail standing before him. She saw him move, and smiled gently at him.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep you here for a couple days, run a few tests and see how badly you were hurt.”

Roman nodded, finally understanding where he was. Yeah, okay, that was fine. It was Friday anyways, so it wasn’t like he was going to miss class or anything. His professors would probably understand if he turned in homework late, too, this time at least. Not much he could do about a hospital stay, anyway. “Do my parents know I’m here?”

“Your mother and brother are aware, and your brother is outside. I can let him in right now if you’d like.”

Brother…? Roman held back a frown; he was an only child. Curious if one of his friends had somehow managed to pull them off being siblings, Roman nodded. The woman grabbed the doorknob, but before she’d even opened the door a man with dark brown hair burst inside.

“Patton? Patton! Thank goodness you’re alright, I came as quickly as I could, but the staff wouldn’t let me in until they’d made sure you were stable, and I was so worried-”

The woman whispered something in the other man’s ear, whose face fell. “I’ll leave you two to it,” she said as she left, closing the door behind her.

With the doctor gone, Roman found himself staring at the other man, trying to figure out if they knew each other. Did they? The man sure was acting like they’d known each other for years, but Roman sure couldn’t remember his face. Certain features did look familiar, though…

“Do- do you remember me?” the man asked, almost timidly.

Roman rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m afraid not, though I’m pretty sure I don’t have any siblings, let alone an older brother.”

“Ah. Well, er, that’s… that’s alright! We can work through this together. I’m Ian, your brother.”

“I-”

“It’s alright if you can’t remember still. I guess it was a pretty nasty fall, but hey, you’re okay at least, and for now that’s all that matters!”

Roman frowned. The stranger seemed so  _ sure _ they were related to each other, but the more Roman stared at Ian’s face, the surer he felt that he’d never met this man before in his life. Though, his vision was a little blurry for some reason. Roman reached up to rub his eyes, when his fingers were suddenly obstructed by something- 

“Since when did I ever wear glasses?” he muttered to himself.

The other man, Ian, bit his lip nervously. “You’ve always worn them, Pat. You feeling okay?”

“Sure. Fine. Absolutely peachy!” Roman paused. “Pat?”

“That’s- Pat. Patton. It’s the nickname I’ve had for you since...” Ian trailed off, a look of concern spreading across his face. “Do you not remember that either?”

“I- That’s not my name, though,” Roman said. A thought slowly crept into his mind, one he didn’t want to think about. But given the situation…

Ian spoke up again, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Patton...  do you not remember your name either?”

“No! I mean, no, it’s not that…” Roman said, shaking his head. “I- I’m not your brother. I’m not Patton.”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked, his eyes widening with worry. “Of course you’re my brother! I’d recognize you anywhere! We have the same eyes, the same jaw-”

“That’s not… ugh! I don’t know how to explain this!” Roman sighed as he placed his head in the palm of his hands. “Like, I’m someone else, but I think I’m in your brother’s body? My name is Roman. Roman Sanders.”

“Ro… man?”

“Yeah. Don’t ask how, I’ve been randomly waking up and finding myself in other people’s lives for almost a week now.”

“Roman-”

“Alright, I guess I’ll admit it sounds stupid when I say it out loud,” Roman said. “But I’m serious! I’m not this ‘Patton’, I’m not your brother, not really. God, I don’t think I can even prove this, you’re probably just thinking your brother’s losing his mind now…”

“Actually,” Ian said, “I think I might believe you.”

Roman blinked. “What?”

“I don’t think I have time to explain it right now, but, uh, just know that I believe you,” Ian said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We can talk about this… later? If you’re still here?”

Roman stared at Ian, unsure if he was hearing right. “Wait, you believe me? Just like that?”

“Alright, time’s up.” The door swung open, and in walked the doctor from earlier, her ponytail swinging slightly with each step. She gave the two of them a polite smile. “I know you guys had a lot to say so I gave you a couple extra minutes, but we do need to get you through some tests right now, if you don’t mind.”

Ian shrugged. “It’s alright, I understand.” Turning to Roman, he said, “But yeah, we’ll talk about this later, if we can.” He gave a wink and exited the room, leaving Roman a little bewildered at the turn of events.

“Can you walk?” the doctor, snapping Roman back to himself.

Roman tested his toes, wiggling them a bit. “I think so.” He sat up and turned his body so that his legs dangled off the edge of the bed, before carefully sliding off. He wobbled slightly as he stood but found his footing quickly enough, and shot the doctor a thumbs up. “Right, let’s see what you guys have in store for me!”

\---

Patton walked out into the lobby, grinning when he saw a familiar mop of brown hair. He had to hold himself back from hugging Ian in order to not wake up Ed, who had fallen asleep on his father’s lap, and so he settled for a bout of frantic waving to get his brother’s attention.

“Hey, glad they discharged you so quickly!” Ian whispered, his eyes shining excitedly.

Patton couldn’t help but giggle slightly. “I know! I’m surprised I got out so soon, too, considering how I was when they brought me in.”

Ian examined his brother. “So you remember….?”

“The first day was a bit of a blur, I’ll admit that!” Patton said, a little bit too quickly. “But once I got my memory back everything was fine! But hey, let’s not get too a _ head _ of ourselves right now. I hope Ed doesn’t  _ mind _ if we wake him up so we can go home?”

“Patton, you don’t have to do that,” Ian said, suddenly serious.

Patton looked at his brother innocently. “Do what?”

“Pretend.” Shifting slightly, Ian continued, “But we can talk more about this at home. Wanna help me out over here?”

Patton paused before gently picking Ed up from Ian’s lap. The boy stirred slightly before tiredly murmuring, “Is Uncle Pat out yet?”

“Shh, I’m here, kiddo,” Patton said. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

Ed muttered something in return, too low for him to properly catch. Poor kid, staying up so late to wait for his uncle to get out of the hospital. Adjusting his position to better hold Ed, Patton said, “I guess you couldn’t find someone to sit for him?”

“Well, that, and he insisted he wanted to be here when you got out.”

The walk to the car was short and quiet. Patton wasn’t sure what to talk about, and Ian kept pacing a few steps ahead of him. They finally got in the car, though they continued to sit in the awkward silence before Ian finally spoke up.

“I didn’t want to say this in the hospital because there would be too many ears around.”

Patton looked at his brother curiously. “You didn’t want to say what?”

“This.” Taking a deep breath, Ian continued, “I- I talked to you that first day, when you finally came to. Except you couldn’t remember me at all.”

“Well, yeah, the doctors said I had temporary amnesia-”

“But you didn’t.” Ian glanced at Patton. “Because I hadn’t talked to you, not  _ you _ -you.”

Patton looked away uncomfortably. “I don’t think I get what you’re trying to say.”

“I mean, the person on the bed looked like you, and he had your voice, and for all intents and purposes he might as well have been you, but the you that talked to me on Friday introduced himself with another name. I think he called himself Roman.” Ian smiled . “And I’m pretty sure I would’ve known if you had a twin. One brother’s enough for me.”

Patton blinked, unsure of what to say. “I- what?”

“The other you told me that he’d been waking up in other people’s bodies for about a week. Which was around the time we went to the dog park, that you have no memory of. And around the date that mysterious journal entry of yours was written. So tell me, Patton,” Ian said, his voice suddenly lilting with curiosity, “if the you I spoke to on Friday wasn’t actually you, where were you, then?”

Patton felt like his world was spinning, but not quite like it had on that particular day. He was still aware he was in his brother’s car, and he felt himself clutch the arm of his seat a little tighter. “Wait, so you think-”

“I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that for the past week, you’ve been switching bodies with other people, somehow. That would explain why you have gaps in your memory and your weird personality changes. Unless you’re being possessed by these people instead?”

“So- so you don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Pat, this whole thing is crazy. But you? You’re just my weird little brother.”

Patton felt himself smile a little at that. “Well then, to answer your question… I think I was in Roman’s place this time. At least, that’s what people kept calling me. I found myself in some kind of a classroom and people kept asking me if I was okay; I then went back to my apartment, or, well, I guess it was Roman’s apartment. I didn’t know what else to do, so I made dinner and watched some Netflix with I think his roommate, before going to bed.”

Ian nodded. “And the last time, did you find yourself as your mysterious journal entry writer?”

“Actually,” Patton said, “I was a guy named Logan! I think he was a teacher, I went into a bakery and someone started asking me questions about some essay they had to write for his class. I was Virgil the second time-”

“Wait, second?”

“Yeah! I just went to work for him and left him a note saying I’d read that journal entry that he’d left, nothing too big.”

“When was this second time?” Ian asked, frowning.

“Uh… Thursday, I think? It was the day after I went over to your place.” Patton suddenly gasped. “Wait! I was supposed to take care of Ed for you!”

“Don’t worry, the you that day did a good job sitting for him,” Ian said, though he looked a little uncomfortable.

Patton glanced at his brother. “Feels funny knowing that you had a total stranger babysitting your kid and not your weirdo brother like you thought?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Pulling into the driveway, Ian said, “But nothing bad happened, and Ed seemed to be alright when I picked him up, so I guess no harm done.”

The two sat in the car for a little bit, unsure of what to say.

“Hey, Pat?”

“Mm?”

“I know I said I don’t think you’re weird for this, but I’m gonna be honest. I think this whole thing is really weird.”

Patton laughed. “Oh, if you think it’s weird, how do you think I feel about this?”

“Touche.” Ian parked the car, and it was only then that Patton realized where they were.

“Ian-”

“Hey, if you’re dealing with weird, body-switching shenanigans, I’m sure not going to leave you to go back to your apartment alone.”

“It might not even happen again!”

Ian grinned. “Well, you did just recover from a concussion and, according to the doctors, temporary amnesia, so it’s the least I can do to look after you another day, alright? I already tidied up the guest bedroom for you.”

Patton sighed as he climbed out of the car. “Well, I’d appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep too well tonight anywa-”

“You sure about that?” Ian asked, carefully pulling out a stuffed dog from the glove compartment.

“Nevermind, I have the best brother ever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: do you know how many times I've rewatched every single Sanders Sides video just to find a line that fits for the chapter title? The answer is too many times.


End file.
